


Missed Calls

by toxictundra



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - GTA, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:18:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxictundra/pseuds/toxictundra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geoff keeps getting Michael hurt. Michael keeps calling Geoff. Geoff doesn’t return his calls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missed Calls

**Author's Note:**

> inspired (?) by a drawing i did a bit ago: http://holographdick.tumblr.com/post/130000737799/geoff-is-a-big-dumb-who-keeps-getting-michael-hurt

Geoff wakes up, blankets half thrown off, pillow across the room. He hears the buzzing of his phone on the wood floor. He stares at the jagged textures of the hideout ceiling, waiting for the call to drop.

He gets up, steps over his still buzzing phone, retrieves his pillow, and hugs it to his chest. He sits on the floor near the window table and the floral armchair. He watches his phone skitter across the floor. He waits for the call to drop.

“Fucking idiot,” Geoff breathes out. He scrubs the heel of his hand against his eye. The familiar burn of old tears and dry skin is almost comforting. The call drops.

He shuffles over to his phone, clicking the power button to bring up the notification menu. Five missed calls, one text from Jack.

Geoff swipes his thumb over the notification for Jack’s text, hoping it’s some form of good news.

_Stop being a baby. You have a crew to run._

Geoff clenches his fist around the device and puts his head in his hands. He’s been gone for three days. He ran like a coward when his plans went to shit, one failure after the other.

First the cars wouldn’t start, then Gavin fumbled his gun thrice, then Jeremy fell down a fire escape, then Ryan got rammed by police cars and passed out, and Jack was in the car with him and got glass embedded in her forearm, and then, and then…

Then Michael got hurt.

It was Geoff’s fault. He didn’t plan well enough. He didn’t observe well enough. He didn’t give the right orders, didn’t have enough backup plans, didn’t check this and didn’t do that. This was the third heist his fuckups got Michael hurt.

His hiding was a result of all of them getting hurt. Crew bosses shouldn’t care this much for their workers, it was an unspoken rule. The king and his pawns, that’s what most outsiders say. They just don’t understand what the FAKE has, what happens behind closed doors.

The phone buzzing against Geoff’s skin startles him, vibrating through his skull. He tosses it to the floor. Michael was calling again. When would he give up?

Geoff picks up the bottle of whiskey from the bedside table, climbs onto the bed, and drinks until he falls asleep.

__

Geoff wakes up at 3:34 AM the next day. He blindly searches around on the floor for his phone, shielding his eyes from the screen’s light in the dark. Seven missed calls, three texts from Jack, one from Gavin, one from Ryan. He swipes his thumb over Ryan’s message.

_I’m up. We’re all fine. Nothing permanent but scars. Michael wants to talk._

Geoff knew Michael wanted to talk, of course he did, the constant calls were proof. He navigates to the text menu and clicks on Gavin’s message.

_Please come home._

Geoff tosses his phone next to the now-empty whiskey bottle, disgusted with himself. He goes back to sleep.

\--

Geoff sleeps the next day away, guilty and hungover. Eleven missed calls, five texts from Jack, two from Gavin, one from Ryan, one from Jeremy. One call is from Jack.

\--

Geoff wakes up the next day, feeling tired but brave. He clicks on one of Michael’s calls, waiting to hear an explosion of curses.

_‘Geoff, you fuck, where are you? Me, Ryan, and Jeremy are at Caleb’s, and Gavin is here too, but he’s not speaking to anyone. Jack won’t stop pacing around even though she’s supposed to be in bed. What happened? Where are you? Call me back.’_

Geoff feels ice move in his veins, gut churning with guilt. He clicks the second message.

_‘Jeremy has a sprained ankle, Jack’s arm will scar, Ryan is still out, Gavin is sulking. I’ve got a sprained wrist and some bruised ribs and a bunch of other bullshit. Call me back.’_

He clicks the third message.

_‘Fucking asshole, christ. Geoff! Come on, if you think I’m mad at you I’m not. You never miss this many calls even when you’re acting like a coward. Fucking call me.’_

Fourth.

_‘We’re all fine you old worried bitch. Running away won’t make us better, we’ve gotten hurt before, come home! Gavin misses you... Come home.’_

Fith.

_‘Ryan is up. Are you gonna come home, or are you gonna be a baby? Gavin stopped sulking today, he says hello.’_

Sixth.

_‘I’m okay.’_

Seventh. Eigth. Ninth.

_‘I miss you.’_

Geoff leaves to get more alcohol.

\--

Geoff wakes up the next day to the apartment door banging, shaking on its hinges.

“Geoff!”

He jumps out of bed in shock, standing panicked in the middle of the room as he tries to think of what to do. He grabs his phone and keys on instinct, stuck in get the fuck out mode.

“You fucking asshole, you fucking shithead, _fuck_ …” Geoff hears, mumbled through the door. He hears scraping in the lock. Geoff had it changed, only he has the right key.

He hears the clicking of lockpicks.

“Of course he would,” Geoff mumbles while tugging at his hair. He shoves his phone and keys in his pocket, shoving his feet in his shoes. The door slams open and he jumps, a frenzied Michael in the doorway.

“You fucking asshole!” Michael charges forward, bringing Geoff down to the floor with an arm around his neck. He punches the floor near Geoff’s head once, twice, three times. The fourth hit is Michael’s body slumping against Geoff’s.

“You dick why? I know you’re a crybaby, but this is too much. Hiding in another city?” He shifts his head so his curls are tickling Geoff’s neck. “Ryan had to strain to track you down. Jack is out for your head, Geoff, she’s really upset.” Michael mumbles the words against the floor.

Geoff puts his arms to Michael’s shoulders, moving him off so he can sit them both up. He moves his eyes over Michael, the bandage on his nose, the bruises covering most of his face and neck, the pad on his cheek, the pained look on his face. Sprained wrist, bruised ribs. Geoff trails his hands down Michael’s arms to take hold of his hands, feeling the weakness in the one in a splint.

“Michael, I’m sorry… I, I,” Geoff struggles to keep his throat from closing, willing the heat of tears away. “I’m so sorry I keep getting you hurt like this.”

“It’s my job, you dumbass, you pay me to do this,” Michael leans closer, a small smile on his face. Geoff winces at how the bruises shift, how the bandages pull. “Don’t you remember what my hobby is? Number one fighter in Los Santos, baby!”

Geoff huffs out a laugh at this. He knows, of course he does, he bribes away Michael’s opponents’ legal actions and pays for their medical bills.

“I will say, though,” Michael brings his hands up to Geoff’s face, sweeping away tears he didn’t realize were there. “Having limited movement is really annoying.” Michael puts his hands back in Geoff’s. He smiles wider, and Geoff feels the corners of his mouth pick up.

“I’m sorry I ran away, that I made things so awful…” Geoff circles his thumbs around the back of Michael’s hands. “That I keep fucking up, getting you all hurt,” Geoff laughs. “Softest boss in Los Santos, here!”

Michael laughs, somewhat strained from his ribs. “I’d take all the hits in the world for you, Geoff. I’ve got the scars and Caleb’s got the medical records to prove it.” He smiles big and happy, dimples showing, and Geoff can’t help but smile big to match.

They sit on the floor for a while more, talking, eventually moving to lay together on the bed and continuing to talk. Michael reassuring Geoff his pain doesn’t feel as bad as it looks.

“Take me home?” Geoff asks after an hour of talk, moving to help Michael up.

Michael takes his hand, smiling. “Don’t worry, boss,” he says, putting his arm around Geoff’s back, moving towards the door. “I’ll protect you from everyone’s hugs.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is written a bit differently and leaning to the side of how i write default. Don't be afraid to let me know if anything should be worked on! 
> 
> i'm holographdick on tumblr


End file.
